Page 49 of I Am Salvation

“They said ‘new meat.’”

“Yeah, that’s what they say when a new kid gets here.” He chuckles lightly. “Don’t pay them any mind. I’ll give them a talking to.”

While I appreciate Leon, the guys who said it are bigger than he is.

“Leon?” I say again.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“How old are you?”

He cocks his head, pressing his lips together. “I don’t know what that has anything to do with anything, but I’m twenty-three.”

“I see.” I look around the room. “Did you grow up in a place like this?”

“No.”

“Figures,” I say under my breath.

He takes a step toward me. “What’s that, my man?”

“Nothing.” I blink. “What’s for supper?”

“Well, it’s Wednesday, Dragon, so that means spaghetti and meatballs.”

Yeah, that’s what I thought I smelled in the kitchen. My memories of home get blurrier and blurrier, but one thing I still recall is that my mother made good spaghetti and meatballs. Her grandmother from Italy taught her how to cook. The spaghetti at the other home was bleh.

“Okay,” I say.

“Hope you weren’t expecting filet mignon or anything?”

“What’s that?”

Leon laughs. “That’s the right answer, my man.” He points to my bed. “Unpack your things. Then we’ll take a tour.”

“David already showed me around.”

“I know, but it’ll take a while for you to remember where everything is, so we’ll go again.”

Leon watches as I unpack my very few belongings from the duffel bag. Once everything is in the drawers, I shove the duffel bag under the bottom bunk.

“All right, let’s take the tour, then.”

Leon shows me the common area with the TV again. One TV for all these kids. Same as the old home. I’ve learned not to care what’s on TV. I try to spend my time reading or doing my homework. Summers are the worst. You know how most kids look forward to summers?

When you live in a group home, and there’s no school or homework to pass the time, you have to find something else to do. Sometimes that means getting into trouble. Getting into fights. I went through that at the old home, and I’m determined not to go through it again.

The outdoor areas aren’t bad. Basketball court. Asphalt. Benches. A little bit of grass.

Then of course the dining room. Long tables, all set up cafeteria style.

Same as the other home.

Sometimes, I can remember what it felt like to sit at a table at home in the kitchen. Griffin still in her booster seat, and Mom serving spaghetti and meatballs. My favorite.

“All right, man,” Leon says. “I do believe it’s the dinner hour. Let me take you to the dining room, and maybe we’ll see some of your roommates there.”

We enter the cafeteria, and Leon gestures to two kids. They come toward us. “Miguel, Zachary, this is your new roommate. Dragon.”

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